
Pass r.-^ i(^a"4- 
Book ■^15'G(^ 



O-NA-WE-QUAH; 



AND 



OTHER POEMS 



TBIES JOB OFFICE PRINT, 

LA PORTE, 

INDIANA. 

1S59. 



733^ 



' -.li 



<^x 



^%4>' 



V oiio 



TO 

A SLIOHr XOKEX OF THE LOVS I BSAS ai.t 
THIS 18 INSCRIBED BY THB 
AUTHOR. 



PREFACE, 



This little collection of Poems, of obscure birth and humble 
parentage, has been printed in its present form, for their better pres- 
ervation, and the gratification of personal friends;' who have been so 
partial in their judgment, as to request it; and is not offered to 
the public either for sale or criticism. The Author therefore has no 
apology to make for their appearance or imperfections, and only 
hopes that they may answer the expectations of those, at whose 
suggestions they have been thus reproduced. 

O-NA-WE-QUAH, the principal Poem of the collection, is founded 
upon a Legend too familliar to Western readers to require a special 
notice — and which has been' so often repeated, or alluded to, that it 
has lost its most charming feature. Novelty. It is simply this : — A 
Tribe of warlike Indians, known only in tradition, once occupied the 
central portion of the State which has received its name from mem- 
ory of them, and were the original possessors of the soil. By tha 
encroachment of other Tribes however, from the East and North, 
who were captivated by the more genial clime, and better hunting 
grounds of the Grand Prairie, with whom the Illinois became 
entangled in perpetual v/arfare — in the process of time, this once 
powerful Nation became reduced in numbers; and refusing to amal- 
gamate with other Nations, as was customary with fragmentary 
Tribes, the stronger party determined upon their final extermmation. 
In this extremity the Illinois took refuge upon an immense Rock. 



that stands in the ^Ilinois River above the present City of Lassalle 
having the appearance of a huge fortress, rising to an elevation of 
nearly two hundred feet from the present water mark, and covering 
an area of several acres at its base, only accessable at a single point 
easily defended against a vastly superior force. The enemy finding 
it impossible to dislodge the fugitives or take the Rock by storm 
resorted to the more civilized, if less human process of Siege • un 
known before in the history of Indian Warfare. Choosing death by 
starvation, rather than to yield themselves captives, and sink their 
nationality, almost the entire Tribe perished-a few only escaping 
to lose themselves amongst strangers beyond the Father of Waters' 
The best rendition of this Legend which has been published was 
written by Rev. Wm. Rownsville, now of Peora, Ills., then Editor 
of a Literary Magazine-and to whom the Author is indebted for 
the initial ideas of his Poem, as well as many acts of kindness 
which he takes pleasure in here acknowledging. ' 

La Porte, hid., March 1856. 



The Bison slept upon the plain, 
. The dew was dripping from his mane ; 
His lazy jaws were mumbling o'er 
The grass they'd cropped the day before. 
The wild Deer saught the shaded brink 
Of moon-lit stream, to rest, and drink. 
The sleepless Wolf was on his trail, 
With peering front he snufted the gale. 
The Beaver looked out of his cabin door. 
And the Otter played with shells on the shore. 
The wild Goose hooded her head in sleep, 
Resting her bosom on the deep ; 
Her hood was the nether down of her wing — 
And she rocked to sleep on the water's swing. 
In an old oak tree, on a leafless limb, 
Rested an Owl, in moonlight dim ; 
His wild too-hoo, through the forest ringing, 
Startled the child on a bent bough swinging ; 
With the teetering winds for a ' lullaby,' 
Its cradle a tree, its blanket, the sky ! 

And high above, on a rocky peak. 
Where night-winds through the cedars creak, 
An Eagle was perched, from danger free, 
Scorning the height of forest tree, 
Which, far beneath his strong wing's play, 
Was shrouded in mist of vapors gray. 
The Grouse-Cock watched by the silent hen; 
The Serpent coiled in the slimy fen ; 
The innocent Hare with tuft of white, 
Sported his limbs in soft moonlight. 
Which 'round and 'round o'er valley and hill, 
W;t.s d.incin" in fkirv-r.ke loveliness still. 



O-NA-WE QUAH ; 



A i.x:g£:nd of illxnois. 



(1) 



THE WARNING. 

The brave Wau-bon-sie's camp-fire shone 

Upon that brawny Clhief alone ; 

The light that tell athwart his brow 

Disturbed not his deep slumbers now ; 

Nor yet revealed with pictured beams 

Reflected back, the warriors dreams. 

A man of many years was he — 

Yet tyrant age had left him free ; 

Had touched not head, or heart, or hand, 

The proudest chieftain of the land. 

Whose tribes, from Michigan's wild shore, 

To where the Mississippi's roar 

Is heard forever, held their sway 

E'er since an unreraembered day — 

Land of the Potawattomie. 

He slept ! — he'll sleep till morning's daw^i ; 

But where is she, the chieftains fawn ? 

She who at early eve had smig 

A song that soothed him — and had flung 

A spell of beauty o'er his eyes 

As sleep shut out the star-gemmed skies! 

Where is she now / — liis lovely daughter ! 

And why yon skiff upon the water ? 



0-iVA-WE-QUAH 



Wau-bon-sie slept; and tented roundj 

A thousand warriors pressed the ground j- 

All waiting for the coming day 

To light them on their pathless way. 

Ere breaks the morn they'll cross the river,. 

With sinewed bow and full fledged quiver : 

While yet the fog hangs oe'r the willow — 

While yet the mist obscures the billow — 

With painted cheek and croAvning feather, 

Around their chief they'll silent gather, 

To follow where the war-path leads, 

O'er rugged steep, or flowering meads ; 

To wreak upon their deadliest foe, 

A dread exterminating blow. 



But where is she, the chieftain's daughter?.' 
And why that skifl" upon the water 1 
Why that shadowy form low bending, 
With the ripples almost blending 1 
Why that paddle's cheek carressing 
Silent wave-lips, softly pressing? 
Startled then, like timid lover. 
Springs she up as lightwinged Plover, 
And the buoyant thing beneath her 
Glides like light through liquid ether ! — 
That is she, Wau-bon-sie's daughter ! 
Now, her steps are o'er the water. 
Her father's blood flows in her veins ; 
Nor love, nor fear, her foot restrains ! 
Yet both are prompting now her steps, 
Through tangled wild, and forest depths. 
She knows her lover's life in danger — 
(Her heart to other fears a stranger) 
She knows her father stern and brave — 
She knows no other hand can save ! 
Her father's hate she braves, and dares — 
Her lover's fate, she craves, and shares — 
If triumph rest upon his plume. 
Or A\ild-flowcrs only deck his tomb^ 



THE WARNIKG. 



A captive once, an Illinois, j 

Whose hated race her father's men j 

With bloody hands would now destroy, } 

Within her father's tent had been 1 

A guest — (his father was a King — i 

And he a prince of goodly guise) i 

And he had charmed her with his eyes, ' 

And taught her many a song to sing — ' 
Had won her heart, and lost his own 

In many an unforgotten tone, j 
Ere yet the maiden's blush betrayed 

Her love, beneath the Burr-Oak's shade: . 

And when released, the youth returned ■ 

To where his native camp-fires burned, ; 

Beyond the river's parting tide — i 

Perchance to seek another bride: j 

Her maiden heart with faithful beat, j 

Had followed far his home retreat. j 
No other love the bonds could sever, 

That bound her heart to him, forever ! H 

What though her father's blood, and his, ] 

Might never mingle in love's bliss — ! 

What though her heart alone must wander, ■ 

And on its past Elysium ponder — ] 

What though a bloodstained hatchet's gleam | 

May wake her from foreboding dream — : 

True as the heart of woman still, \ 

Through every good, through every ill, '\ 

She loves, as only woman can, ! 

And clings with hope to faithless man ! | 



No palor, on her brown cheek spreading, 
Betrays the danger she is treading ; 
Her feet as light as nimble deer's. 
Are winged with love's elastic fears ; 
Her moccasins adorned with quills, 
Tread soft' as morning o'er the hills ; 
Her glossy braids of raven hair. 
Are floating 'round her shoulders Ijai-e, 



0-NA-WE-QUATI ; 



Tier swelling bosom, tinged with hue 

Of sunny brown, has felt the clew ; 

And gaudy scai'f of crimson dye, 

Obscured Its beauty from the eye. 

About her waist, a beaded belt 

Susj^ends a skirt of rudest felt ; 

Her rounded limbs, of tapering mould, 

Disdain protection from the cold ; 

Her ^eye — the Eagle's on yon' peak 

Hath not the power which her's can speak ? 

The mildest star in heaven's blue zone, . 

Hath not the softness of its tone, | 

When love hath kindled in its orb * 

A light the heart may all absorb ! .] 

The lightnings gleam in darkest night, 'i 

Is not more scathing in its light, 

When rage hath fanned it into flame, .{ 

And 'roused the blood no power can tame ! i 



The moon had passed a promontory 

Of mountain mist, sublime and hoary ; 

And launched upon serial waves. 

Where rippling winds its bright keel laves, 

Was shedding full effulgence now. 

From burnished sides and silvery prow. 

It fell iipon the antlered brow 

Of Buck, beneath the burr-oak bough, 

And glossing o'er the Bison's skin, 

Lit up his breath of vapors thin j 

It fell upon the flying maiden. 

With love, and hope, and fear still ladoi ! 

She gave one look to mark its ofling, 

And then her feet the moments scoffing, 

Increased their rapid silent motion. 

Like moonbeams glancing o'er the ocean. 

Her shadow kissed the drooping rose, 

Nor waked the dew-god from repose; 

Nor plucked she from their beauties rare, 

A single crem to deck her hair; 



THE WARNING. 



Nov stooped, with rival lips to ply 
The tempting buds, beneath her e} e ; 
(The. luxury\)f the wood-land bee, 
That has its home in the hollow tree, 
And revels in arcadian blisses, 
With life prolonged in honeyed kisses,) 
But on she passed, and neared the grove, 
Where slept the warrior of her love ! 



No fresh turned leaf, no broken weed, ■ 

Proclaimed the rashness of her speed; | 

Her father's best of hunting men ' 
Could scarce have traced her thro' the glen— 

And when she reached the smoother pi-airie, . 

Her steps were viewless, as of Fairy; ^ 

Or borne on Ariel's wings away, ^ 

She'd left no touch of human clay. ^ 



The grove appeared in distance dim. 

An Isle upon the ocean's brim ; 

No wave-worn steep — no breakers roar. 

Was seen or heard along the shore, 

And yet so like the watery main 

In silence stretched the unbroken plain, 

Forgetful of the wild waves play, 

The dew had seemed like falling spray: 

While like a mermaid to the view. 

Swift gliding o'er the surface blue — 

Or spirit risen from the grave. 

With power to still the murmuring wave. 

With buoyant faith to light her steps 

O'er all its slumbering caverned depths, 

Had seemed the maiden in her flight, 

Beneath the moon's transfiguring light. 



Obscure at first, at length appear 
Upon her eye, distinct and clear, 



O-NA-WE-QUAII : 



The outlines of that woody form 

That long had braved the fire and storm — 

That mighty shade of erap'ror oaks 

Wrapped in their dark o'ermantling cloaks, 

Majestic, dignified and grave ! 

The elements could ne'er enslave ! 

They laugh at time and bid the wind 

Spare not, nor yet the clouds be kind? 

A brotherhood of trees — they stand 

In friendship joining arm and hand ; 

Eegardless of the hurricane 

In terror sweeping o'er the i>lain — 

Regardless of the wild fire's gleam, 

(Protected by the belting stream) 

'Though like infernal waves it roll. 

Loosed from the burning lake's control, 

And leaps as with malignant joy. 

Each thing of earth to all destroy ! 



And yet, a grander sight to see 
Might never chance to mortal eye, 
Than, gazing from impending higlit 
Out through the cloud-enveloped night, 
To see upon the verge of earth 
A single ray of light have birth. 
And through the caves of darkness far 
Shine out like distant glimmering star, 
Or torch light through a dungeon's bar ? 
And change, as changes sick man's lamp, 
Seen through the night air chill and damp, 
Moved by some tender woman's care, 
Whose angel form is hovering there, 
Her heart magnetic to the woes 
That rack his fevered form with throes ; 
And flutter, — faintly rising still, 
Like Ignis-fatuus, o'er the hill ; 
(That spirit of the dank old tombs 
Which oft the burial cone illumes) — • 
Perchance to hover o'er the graves 



THE WAKNING. 7 j 

i 

Of Illinois' slumbering Braves — 
Till lo ! like bursting magazine, 
Or ^Etna's flash, that flame is seen, 
Thrusting its tongues of Are on high, 
Lapping the clouds from out the sky, 
And zoning heaven with its deep dye ! 
Now, like a liquid lava tide 
It rolls away on every side, 

Bounding — Leaping — ' j 

Plunging — Creeping — ■ j 

Dying with the winds away — ; 

Crawling slowly through the hay — ■ 

A waving line of light, no more — > 

Mapping out a dark sea shore! ; 

Black beyond as Pluto's cave — 1 

Then, again, like maddening wave, : 

Roaring, foaming, ; 

Lashing, crashing, ^ 

Onward dashing — • ; 

Or like troop of fiery steeds \ 

Tlirough the grass and through the weeds, j 

Tossing up their gilded manes, [ 

Scorning bit or bridal reins — 1 

O'er the marsh, and o'er the knoll, ] 

Beneath the spurring winds control — - 1 

Where shall be their ending goal ? | 

Now, again with slackened speed, , v 

See it on the dry sods feed; 

Then like snorting sentinel, ! 

Climbing up the heath-clad hill, ' i 

See the burning element . • 

Tread like life the steep ascent f j 

Now aroimd the summit spread, i 

See it mock its char-top'ed head — ' \ 

Haging 'round its temples jet, ' 

Brilliant, flaming coronet! ' 

Snuffing then the fitful gale. 
Like a ship with burning sail 
Onward moving : — let it pass— ^ 
Other springs and other grass 



0-NA WE-QUAli: 



Follow in the .stcjis of Time — ' 

And this desolate, siibliiue, j 
Gnind prince of nun ! not a trace, 

But blooming spr-ing will all efface, < 

Breathing o'er her plastic breath, ] 

And moulding loveliness from death ! \ 

I 

I 

Nee-nah (such the maiden's najiic,) ' 

Near the dark shade's border canie ; ; 

Crossed she o'er the guardian stream — 

Hark ! was that the wild-cat's scream ? ' 

'Waking from blood-thirsty dream! 

Like a maiden in distress, j 

Crying through the wilderness ! 1 



The Panther, (so the Illinois 

Had named their chieftain's oldest boy — 

His voice had once proved a decoy, 

And e'en a wily hunter led 

To seek him out with stealthy tread,) 

The Panther heard the signal cry 

Himself the Potawattomie 

Had taught ; when love, shyer than fear. 

Had framed deception for the car 

Of all who heard, save him whose heart 

Had prompted such bewildering art; 

And oft before, on such a night, 

"When winds were still and stars were bright, 

Had listened with a longing sense, 

Protracting time and hope's suspense, 

Until that magic voice had thrilled 

H^s soul, with love's quick transport filled — ■ 

The Panther heard the signal cry, 

And brushed the dew-drop from his eye ; 

It was no tear, if such it seem, 

And he had waked from sorrowing dream. 

He leaned upon his bra\\Tiy arm, 

And listencil, doubting the alarm, 



THE WARNING. 



Then gazed upon the swarthy men, 
Who, stretched beneath his piercing ken. 
Were sleeping sweet as if the dawn 
Should sparkle o'er the grove and lawn, 
And -shed its lustre on their path, 
From dangers free, and foeman's wrath, 
Nor bear upon its wings of light 
Fears e'en a timid maid should fright ! 
Again he heard the mystic token 
In feebler accents laintly spoken; 
And rising from his sleep-worn mat. 
As silently as flits the bat 
In ancient cave or hall deserted, 
He from his sleeping comrades parted. 

Now stealing softly o'er the leaves, 
His bosom with emotion heaves; 
No fear it is, that shakes his limbs — 
Nor night's damp chill — no vision swims. 
Of ghost or spirits in the air. 
As superstition paints them there ! 
His heart is firm— liis limbs are strong- 
He dares C(jnfront the boldest wrong — 
'Though bound to torture's burning stake. 
No coward nerve in him should quake — 
Yet swayed by love's delusive power. 
He trembles like the field-born flower. 
When underneath the dark cloud's belt 
The pulses of the storm are felt. 

Beside a patriarch of the wood, 
A portly oak, the maiden stood, 
And waited f«»r the loved one's tread, 
As silently as wait the dead; 
Until within a breath's low sound — 
Then gliding softly o'er the ground. 
She met the warrior, face to face, 
(2) Soon clasped within his warm embrace'. 



10 O-NA-AVE-QUAII ; 



A moment only on his T)reast, 
The maiden gave her forehead rest ; 
Withdrawing then her lovely form, 
One hand she elasped upon his arm, 

The other held his hand ; 
" Warrior !" she said, " a gathering storm 
Black with destruction's dread alarm. 

Is sweeping o'er the land!" 

" When council fires in darkness wane. 
Ere yet the hastening day is gone, 

They never shall be lit again 

Till many a wreaking knife is drawn!" 

"A trait'ress, I have fled the camp, 
To warn thee of approaching danger ! 

My love for thee was guiding lamp, 

And led me thi-o' these wilds, a stranger. 

" My boat is on the river's brink — 
The river flows toward the ocean — 

As silently as star-beams drink, 

Shall be our downward gliding motion !" 

" Then come with me, and let us fly ! 

Ere yet my father wakes to find me 
A trait'ress fled — a warning S2:)y — 

To which my love alone inclhied me." 

" Beyond the Mississippi's banks 

We'll build our hut secure and lonely ; 

And every eve' we'll join our thanks. 
That thou art mine — and I, thine only !" 



The warrior listened to her strain, 
AVhich sped like lightning thro' his brain,. 
And quivered in his trembling heart, 
Like pointed, eagle-jtinioned dart ! 
The blood receded from his lips, 



THE WARNING, 11 



And agucish cliilled his finger tips ; 
Then mounting back again to shame 
His cheek from whence the color came — 
Had light upon his visage shone, 
A blush had mingled with the brown, 
And rippling o'er his high cheek bone. 
Increased the darkness of his frown. 



*' Maiden !" he said ; " thy words are sweet. 
And soft as are the doveling's note ; 

My heart would follow on thy feet, 
And trust the guidance of thy boat. " 

" But list ! upon these limbs of mine, 
Disgrace shall never leave a staiii — 

Nor 'round my heart shall love e'er twine 
A cord that shall my course restrain !" 

" A child of him — my noble sire ! 

Ne'er let the nations tell the tale, 
He fled before Wau-bon-sie's ire. 

With trembling limbs, and features pale." 

" No"! rather let them say, he fell 
Beneath the whirling tomahawk ! 

And that his spirit slumbers well — 

Or with the sliadowy Braves holds talk !" 

" No ! never be it said of me — 
The Panther, 0-na-we-quah's son ! 

He sought the shade of Love's green tree. 
And hid ere yet the strife begun." 

" Be thou my guide ! My father's men 
I'll lead where sleeps the painted foe. 

And Venge our wrongs! — Fair maiden, then 
To other lands, with thee I'll go !" 



12 o-na-tte-qitah; 



" Or if the spirit of this land 
Shall bless the strong avenging blow, 

I'll claim thee from Wac-bon-bie's hand, 
And drown in blood the faintest, no!" 



The maiden's heart was filled with grief, 
And trembled like the Poplar's leaf. 
Hope sunk within her tender breast, 
As day expires far down the west ; 
And left her bosom dark and drear, 
As night, foreboding naught but fear. 
" I knew, 1 kneAV," she faintly cried, 
" I ne'er should be thy chosen bride ! 
And yet I hoped! — but hope no more 
Shall warm my 'heart's dull aching core ! 
Go ! arm thy men — but let me not 
Betray my kinsmen's lurking spot ; — 
Thee, only thee! I cared to save, 
And thou art lost ! Yet in thy grave 
When thou art gone — I'll place the meat. 
And pounded corn, and l)erries sweet ; 
And brave as thou ! my heart shall be, 
Forever true to love and thee !" 



The young Chief felt his spirit yield 
A moment, the* again was steeled 
With hatred for his nation's foe, 
And pride's returning crimson flow ! 
Nor struggled long his savage blood, 
Between the tempting, and the good ; 
For base indeed, at such an hour, 
To seek repose in love's sweet bower; — 
For chieftain's son 'twere base indeed. 
To fly the day of bravery's need — 
While his strong arm had power to strike, 
And champion deeds heroic-like ! — 
When from deserted sod might rise 
A sister's gore to stain the skies, 



THE WARNINO. 13 



With streaks of blood that ne'er should fode, 

As oft he gazed from love-sought glade, 

To wreak in after days the shame 

Of " coward Brother" on his name ! 

When Father's spirit flitting o'er 

The world of souls, from shore to shore, 

Might whisper through the solitude 

Of Iowa's primeval wood, 

" A stain on O-na-we-quah's race ! 

A treacherous son — a coward base!" 

He dropped the maiden's hand from his, 
Nor stooped to take a parting kiss ; 
But bade her seek her father's tent, 
Ere yet the darkness all was spent, 
And wait with hope, the morn's event. 
They parted, she with heavy heart, 
And pained with disappointment's sm^rt. 
He to his comrades quick returned, 
While rage within his bosom burned ; 
But ere he reached the slumbering crowd. 
Above them hung a massive cloud, 
That rapidly as passions gather, 
Or changes Illinoisan weatlier, 
Had clustered underneath the moon, 
With sighs and mutterings — and soon 
Groaned out with loud parturient pain — 

The living light leaped from its womb 
And flashed athwart the flooded plain, 
Piercing with momentary gleam 

The darkness of incumbent gloom — 
Lived but the life-time of a dream. 
And vanished! — Still the laboring cloud 
Bore on, with anguish long and loud ; 
Speaking to the awe-struck ear jj 

In tones that filled the heart with fear; | 

For there is naught in heaven or earth 

Speaks to the heart with such a thrill, 
As the thunder's groan at the lightning's birth, 

Bidding the proudest breast breathe still. . 



14 O-XA-WE-QUAH 



" AM'iike my Braves !" the Panther cries, 1| 

" The spirits of the dead complain ! i 

A^'ake my Braves ! — to glory rise — i 

Or wander with the ghostly slain ! , i 

Awake, awake !" (An hundred men i 
Rose up like spirits from the glen, 
And stood with superstitious awe, 

Around their Chief, whose word was law.) < 

" Once more, my Braves ! within whose veins ; 

The blood of freedom still remains, ' 

Once more on you the spirits call, 1 

For freedom's cause to strike or fall ! ■ 

Tliis night or never tells the tale, j 

And woe betide the arms that fail ! ' 

This night or never! — ^let it be •: 

The dread of Potawattomie ! ; 

And let their children's children tell •; 

The terrors which this night befel !" i 



" The auguring clouds have omened well," 
(The old man said, the Panthbr's sire, 
As slowly raised his ancient ire. 
And quickened o'er his wrmkled brow 
A tinge of j'outh's bright magic flow ; 
And kindled in his veins the tire 
Of day's decline to morning's glow) 

"The auguring clouds have omened well, 
And well my son, thy lips have spoken! 

I feel my aged pulses swelf. 

As time had not their spirits broken !" 

" Where lies the foe ? I ask no more — 
The shadows o'er my brain this night, 

Winged from Futurity's dark shore, 
Bore presage of the coming fight. 

" What saw the Panther m his dream. 
That thus hath roused his youthful blood? 



THE WARNING. 15 



Or was it but the lightning's gleam 
That 'waked him in a hero's mood ?" 

" No dream my sire, hath touched my eyes 
No prophet I, foretelling Seer — 

Nor have the spirits of the skies 
So thundered in the Panther's ear ! 

"A living dream hath Avarmed my blood, 
A vision brighter far than Fancy's — 

And o'er my heart hath poured its flood 
Of living, loving, lust'rous glances! 

" The council fires at set of sun, 
Beyond the river's bank have died, 

And painted Braves, beneath tjie dun 
Of midnight, wait upon its side. 

" They sleep secure in tale of Seer — 
Their prophet hath his counsel told ; 

Nor dream they aught of dangers near, 
Of warning spy, or maiden "bold ! 

"But why delay? — the 3noments fly, 

A)id darkness soon by morn's bright fingers 

Will leave unblanketed the sky, 

And yield to fate the form that lingers. 

" Away ! and ere the morning draws 
The curtains from the slumbering earth, 

We'll stain with blood the hungry jaws 
Of death; or 'venge our fated b'irth !" 



As thus he spoke the blanket fell, I] 

And bared his bosom's manly swell ; . 'l 

Then stretching forth his brawny arm, 1 

As if he would repel the storm, ' ! 

He said — "let all my Braves, who dare i! 

With me their fate and lives to sluire— ji 

Let all who love their being less !■ 



16 O-NA-AVE-QUAH; 



Than honor's unstained holiness, 
This moment for the strife prepare! 
And hy the blood of brothers swejr! 
By our forefather's bones — a host — 
By murdered sister's weepmg ghost — 
By all our ancient honor'd name, 
Once winged upon the winds of fame, 
' This night the Potawattomie, 
By our strong arm shall vanquished be !' 
This be our oath — our battle cry, 
' We come to conquer or to die /' " 



First in the ranks the old man stood, 
To lead those Spartans of the wood ; 
Behind hjm followed close, his men, 
Their oath still echoing through the glen ; 
The Panther, second in command, 
Took close behind his watchful stand — 
The wiliest of the war-like band. 
Then, silent as the shades of death — 
A line of shadows — o'er the hefW:h 
They took their course, with rapid stride, 
Yet cautious, toward the flowing tide. 
Beyond which still impatient lay 



The storm-fiends muttered in the air — 
The prowling wolf had sought his lair : 
The moon appalled had fled the zone 
Of upward skies, nor longer shone 
On lowland stream, or upland hill — 
On hooting Owl, or Whip-poor-will ; 
On Bison brown, or fown-loved Doe ; 
On waking Brave, or slumbering foe ; 
On flowering lawn, forest or glade, 
Nor yet upon a flying maid ; 
For NeE'NAh's boat, as light as ever, 
An h.our a"o had cr(jsiied the river. 



O NA WE-QUAH ; 



A MGEKD OF ZLLIHOIS. 



THE CONFLICT. 

The grass was wet on hill and dale 

And o'er them hung a midnight veil ; 
While darlaicss like a tiirban'^s fold, 
Around the brows of Earth Avas rolled. 
The v/inds bewildered in their flight, 
Moaned through the dismal halls of' night 
And flapped their wings, like demons hurled 
±rom realms of light, to damned world! 

Still O-NA-vrE-QrAii's silent band, 

Uzidaiuited, held their onward course; 
Their Chieftain's motion Avas command— 
No need had they of mandate hoarse ! 
Until the river's bank was gained. 
And every eye was watchful strained, 
Lest secret foe should guard the ford, 
And warn the sullen sleeping horde. ' 

No living breath around was heard— 
No rustling leaf was faintly stirred :— 
(3) They plied in vaui the voicelesss ground, 



jg o-NA-'\vE-QrAn ; 



With ears attuned t(.) fcot-fall sound ; 
The rippling river's nniniuiring tone, 
J'ell on the attenuate sense alone; 
While darkness resting on tlie stream, 
Shut out the sparkling "vvator's gleam; 
The deep above, the deep below, 
Seemed mingled in contiguous flow! 

In one accord the Braves prepared, 

With girded loin, and strong arms bared, 

To stem the flood, what e'er betide, 

And reach with life the opposing side. 

But ere a single swimmer's stroke. 

The water's moving crest had broke — 

With offerings mete, the priestly Brave 

Aappeasance spread upon the wave, 

And called upon the Mon-e-doo 

Of flood and stream to guide them through ! 

Then first, as if his sacred arm. 

By spirits blest, held pious charm, 

With silent stroke, yet firm and long. 

He led the way, with heart still strong. 

Though Time had withered many a tree, 

And Age had struck from out the land, 
TuU many a Brave as young as he — 
And long and lean had grown his hand— 
And gone the favorites of his band — 
And gone the vigor of his youth— 

And gone the glory of his tribe — 
And gone (himself almost in sooth — 

Nor strength, nor hope can age imbibe.) 
And gone the wife that pounded corn — 

And gone the child that first was their 
Old 0-NA-WE-QUAH smilcd them scorn, 
Nor bowed him yet to age or cares! 

The MoN-E-DOO had heard his prayer! 
Enthroned above the humid air — 



s — 



THE CONFLICT. |;g 

Yet in thoir spirit attributes 

Pervading all the vast remotes ! 

The skies, the stars, the flaming Sun ! 

Home of the good and mighty one ! 

Forever imminent— and seen 

On rocky peak, and valley green; 

Among the trees— amid the vines^ 

In clefts, in crevices, and mines 

peep under ground— in caverns damp, 

Unht by impious stranger's lamp; 

Where crystal tears, congealed as' shed, 

Lie sparkling o'er the stony bed; 

Or hang as from a snowy eave, ' 

The icy spars, that upward cleave, 

And grow apace, as down theni roll 

Drops salt as from a sorrowing soul— 

O'er Lakes, and springs, and flowing streams 

Fountams, and falls ! Wherever eleams 

Ihe light of day— or night still holds 

-tier sovereign sway o'er plain and wold, 

There are they seen, or felt, or heard '— 

In every whisper of the breeze— 
The moan of leaf, or wind's low sigh— 
^ The tempest's howl, when from the seas 
A voice goes upward to the sky 

And all the elements are stirred, • 

Still are they heard! 

Even in the tiny insects hum - 

Or wild Bee's murmur 'mid the tlirum 
Of flowers, wherein are spirit forms, 

From human vision close concealed, 
The ear detects some spirit word 
In sweet harmonious sounds revealed ! 

The MoN-B-Doo had heard the prayer » 
And on the wished for bank they stood, 

With reeking limbs and dripping hair, 
bate o'er the dark and fearful flood ! 

bafo— all save one who '11 rise no more. 



20 o-KA-WE-QUAn; 



Till wafted on that silent shore 
Where, lifted from the dreary banks 
By gpii-it hands he'll join the ranks 
Of kindred who have gone before : 
Unscalped his brow — unspilled his gore — 
And yet with victor's garlands round 
His brow, by spirit maidens bound ! 
They missed him not, nor lingered there, 
To number o'er their force with care; 
But eager still as hungering hound, 
On scented track each one did bound; 
Nor slackened in their vengeful speed, 
Save where suspicion crowned a weed, 
Grown ranker from the nutrient mould, 
With crest and plume of warrior bold — - 
Or passing through steep sided glen 
With guarded steps 'gainst ambushed men 
Tliey bent their heads, and crouching low 
Moved onward through the darkness slow, 
Till from the fearful gorge emerged. 
By murderous burning passions urged, 
They leaped, as longing for the strife, 
That soon should cost them many a life ! 



Wau-bon-sie's men were sleeping still, 
Foreboding naught of coming ill ; 
Nor had a restive dream betrayed 
The absence of the love-lorn maid ; 
Who, when returned, with fears oppressed 
Dared not disturb her father's rest. 
Dared not ! She dared do even more ! 
Unskilled in love's deep mystic lore 
Is he who trusts in woman's fear ! 
What love inspires to do, she'll dare? 
So in the breast of Nee-nah, love 
With filial duty fiercely strove — 
Tlais tempting sorely to reveal 
That which the other would conceal, 
Until too late ! not hcr's the choice ! 



THE CONFLICT, 



21 



For near at hand the Illinois 

Catlike, and conchant, stealing on 

Each with his knife and toni'hawk drawTi— 

With breath Suppressed, and form half l)ent— 
Like tigers eyeing shimbering fawn 

With bloody eagerness intent — 
Each nerve inwrought with fierce desire- 
Each eye quick flashing passions fire- 
Each muscle strained for fatal leap- 
While for a moment in delight 
They gazed upon their victims sleep, 

And feasted on the entrancing sight 
Of Nature's deep unconsciousness, 
Betraying where 'twas meant to bless, 
Till savage blood might strive in vain 
Its burning pulses to restrain — 
They leaped, as if from jungled lair, 
With scream that startled Earth and air, 
And fiercely on their foemen fell 
With blow, and stab, and fearful yell— 
And voices multiplied by fear 
Within the treacherous waking ear 
Of those whom fortune did awake 
To vengeance fly, or vengeance take ? 
But few indeed who first awoke. 
Sunk not again, beneath the stroke 
Of him who stood beside their bed, 
And cleft with blows each rising head, 
Whose forms within their blanket's fold 
Convulsed, and o'er their comrades rolled, 
Or in deliriums fiercest mood, 
Wreaked on their o^vn, their own lost blood ! 
While rung around from earth to sky 
" We come to conquer or to die /" 

And few were they who gained their feet, 
But felt the impulse of retreat ; 
O'erawed with sudden shock of fear, 
And yells of triumph on the ear, 



22 O-XA-WE-QUAII ; 



Mingled with groans of ftgony ! — 
In vain Wau-bon-sib's rallying cry ! 
They heard not, heeded not his voice — 
But fled before the Illinois, 
Striking whom first their arms did meet 
Obstructing vengeance or retreat — 
Though in the darkness none could tell 
If friend or foe before him fell ; 
And many a form in death-shock reeled 
"When every foe had left the field, 
Ere ceased the carnage or the flight, 
Or known the respite of the fight. 



Confusion, dire, as reigned in hell, 
When first the prince of darkness fell— 
Or Babel's tower had grown so high — 
Aspiring heavenward through the sky, 
Bewildered tongues confounded all, 
And taught ambition how to fall- 
Spread panic o'er the bloody plain, 
And left unnumbered all the slain? 



O-NA-WEQUAH 



A LEGEND OF ZZ.LINOZS. 



THE RETREAT. 

Hushed is the thunder's mighty tongue 

In upper air — and hushed the cry 
Of Battle-fiends, that loud had rung 

Beneath the dark appalling sky ; 
And faint the finger-marks of Morn, 

As rising from her purple bed 
She tosses back with radient scorn, 

The locks that cluster 'round her head, 
And steps on high! The glorious Maid! 

Who shivers with her sparkling glance. 
The clouds o'er forest, hill, and glade, 

As over all her steps advance — 
While 'round her myriad Beauties dance, 

And drink the love-light from her eyes, 

And dip their wings in the deep dyes 
Of her bright cheeks and roseate lips — > 

Then fly away o'er all the skies. 
To stain them with their finger-tips, 

Glittering in gaudy colors bright — 
And scatter o'er the smiling field 

Profusion of their golden light, 
With pearls, and amethysts— and steal 

Sweet kisses from the blushing flowers, 



I 

j 

I 
24- O-NA-WE-QUAIl ; 



Caught Nvith the deAv-god in their bowers — 

And o'er the grove's green freshness spread ' 

A filmy purple canopy, 

Soft as the melting hue ; 
Of ^Mary's drearny eye — 

And o'er the hill tops tread, ; 

Swathing them in golden sheets — 
AValking in gladness dressed, ■ i 

As over burnished pavements of the streets ! 

In Fabled City of the future blest ! i 
Alas ! that Nature's peerless child. 

The brightest birth the fruitful Sun i 

E're gave to earth, that grateful smiled, , 

As round the parent orb she run — J 

Alas ! that Morn, the sister queen • 

Of rainbow tints, and and evening dyes, i 

Should gaze on such barbarian scene, j 

As oft' must greet her sparkling eyes ! ] 

And yet her looks are over all i 

As bright, as when on Eden's grove '. 

She shed glad rays — ere Adam's fall, ■ ' 

Or Cain forgot his brother's love ! ■ 



With victory flushed, the Illinois 

■" Pressed homeward fast their flying feet; 

For well they knew no plumeless boys 

Were they, to follow their retreat- 
But mighty warriors, kno\\^n of old, 

Whose scalps outnumbered far their years — 
And youths, Ambition driven, bold 

To trample over death, and fears! 
All this, and more, full well they knew, 
As fast, and faster still they flew ! 
At every step, the busy brain 
By multiples increased the train 
Of those to follow on their track, 
And hunt them to their confines back. 
The babbling brook they leaped, nor heard 



THE RETREAT 



25 



i 

The; mnyic of a niunnured word ; | 

Nor on their sense excited fell 

The tinklings of a pebble bell, 

Struck by the water's silvery tongue ; 

Nor heard they from the neighbornig hdl, 

The voice of echoes, speaking still— 

Nor zephyrs laugliiug, glad and young ! 



shade 



They sped like shadows through the 

Of woody wilds, nor respite made ; 

Stopped not to feel the awe it gives, 

To be where naught but Nature lives ! 

To feel the humbling influence 

Of Nature's vast omnipotence ! 

To feel the weakness of man's will, 
And all his boasting passions still- 
Submissive, chastened, in control 
Of feelings that sublime the soul ! 
But onward, onward still they fled. 
Till victory's tace, with slaughter red 
Paled o'er, as sinking with the dead ; 
And fears that follow fast the flying, 
Unknown while yet amid the dynig 
In shook of confl'ict, o'er them set 
The shadows of forlorn regret 

And well they might ; for ere the Sun 

Had dried their follen victnns blood, 
Through all the tribes the watchword run, 

From river's bank, to western wood ; 
And gathering fast the warrior's fleet. 

And bold, ^and strong, and stung with shame, 
Upon th:\t field of combat meet. 

Nor kindle fresh the council flame ; 
But gather round the mangled forms 

Of friends and kinsmen, fellen there. 
And stain with l)inding-bl(.od their arms, 
(4) And by their spirit fatliers swear 



O-NA-WE-QUAH ^ 

" Revenge ! revenge ! and deadliest hate t 

The last of Ona-we-quah's race — 
The last red drop shall expiate 

The shame naught else can now effiice !" 
A few short words Wau-bon-sie said 
While pointing to th' unnumbered dead, 
Food for the ever hungering air 
And wasting winds that hovered there — 
A few short words — what then the need 1 
Those wouiids that never more should bleed, 
More eloquent than living tongue, 
Moved every heart, in concert strung! 
And never more those wilds around 
Shall quake with such tumultuous sound — 
And never more that wood shall hear 
Reverberant in its listening ear 
Such boinidless passion's trantic yell 
As on its echoing arches fell ! 
The axeman's stroke resounding now, 
Bears presage of the coming plow, 
Which ope's the speechless lips of earth,- 
And gives a tongue to myriad birth 
Of Cereal offspring, glad and new 
From siring Sun, and nursing dew. 



Beyond the power of thought's control 

Hot passions tortured every soul. 

Till like resistless ocean's tide, 

When storm-fiends on the tempest ride — 

Or Mississippi's turbid breast, 

With melting snows in torrents pressed, — 

That host of savage warriors burst 

O'er all restraint — with burning thir.-.t 

For blood — and vengeance on the race 

That thus had stained them with disgrace !' 

Then bounding madly o'er the plain, 

Silence, and Death, were friends again ! 

Of all that host, there's none remain 

To soothe the sick <;r guard the slain ! 



THE RETREAT. -27 



No voice to scare the wolf away, 
Or fright the vulture from his prey ! 
Ah, one ! — when all the rest have fled, 
Like sainted spirit o'er the dead. 
With angel form and silent feet 
A maiden steals from soft retreat. 
And, drops from balmy lids the dew 
Of love, from fountains pure and true. 
All tremulous, with hasty tread, 
She wanders now among the dead, 
And glances swift from form to form, 
Whose unthrilled hearts no longer warm 
Beneath her soft transporting eye, 
Whose lustres with the star-beams vie! 
Yet stops she not to bend her brow, 
On many a fallen warrior now ; 
And strange — not e'en her brothers share 
Those tears of love, which she would spare 
Por one, who vahily sought for, still 
Rends her soft bosom with a thrill. 
Lest that indeed he should be found, 
A weight of anguish on the groumi 



She stops — an Illinoisan youth 
Bites hard the grass ! — it is not he ! 
Her breath returns with hopeful truth, 
Her pulses beat more wild and free ; — 
Then folding on her heaving breast 
Her arms, with look serenely blest, 
" Great Spirit ! thou hast heard me still ? 
He lives ! — may it be thy will 
Yet o'er his form to spread thy wing 
Averting fate, and death's vile string." 
Such was the maiden, Neenah's prayer. 
Borne heavenward on the ambient air. 



Reclined as pictured ia a glass, 



28 O-NA-WE-QUAII ; 



And on the dial foco of earth - 

Stretched out their fingers towai'd the north, i 

Prodaiining time, as shadows will, ' 
Fleeting, forever fleeting still ! 

Yet gently, kindly warning man ' 

How short the measure of his span, ' 

Ere like a shadow's when withdrawn I 

The light of life, his being's gone. ; 
ITow soft those shadows on the breast 

Of mother earth recline, and rest ; ,' 

As if to soothe her waking hour, ^ 

Till darkness shall the day devour, ! 

And cradled in the atmospliere, , 

In seeming sleep, the world appear ? , 

At length, regained ancestral field, ] 

The Illinois no longer yield i 

To flying fear ; Init turn again ■ 

To view their own, their native plain; ■ 

And see in retrospect the shade , ' 

Of greatness, fiir beyond their aid 

This side of heaven to recall — i 

Doomed by decree of fate to fall ? ' 

How on the mind of warriors old, 

Stride forth the spectres of the bold \ 

And stalwart heroes of his time, ■] 

Ere passed the glory of his prime; 

Who, oft in battle time of life 

Had mingled in the deadliest strife, I 

And won courageous names, and plumes, 

And trophies, now within their tombs ! 

(Curs'd be the hand that such exhumes !) 

IIow on the burning brain of youth, ; 

In pictures, glowing more than truth, : 

Traditioned battles move along, ', 

And triumphs echo in the song — 

As 'round and 'round, with blow and yell, [ 

The dancing warriors proudly tell ; 

How 'neath their strokes the \ictims fell — j 



THE RETREAT. , 30 



And hold tho fresh pcalod scalps in air 

Suspended by a tuft of hair, 

Proof valorous — far more than tongue 

Could testify, to move the young ! 

Oh ! 't were a sorrowing sight to see 

The remnant of that noble race, 

Bowed by the weight of destiny — 

Proud of their birth and ancestry — 

Proud of their name, which once had been 

The dread of every enemy — 

Alas, to be not so again !] 

On, on — beneath the stern decree — 

No hope, no stay, no remedy ! 



Make way ! make way ! 
Nations and men ! — all, all decay, 
And mingle with forgotten clay ! 
Unpeopling earth, to people o'er — 
Press onward ! those who go before ? 
Nations and men ! the Camel's bell 

Is heard to tinkle 'neath the walls 
Of Theban temj)le, where the swell 

Of worship once rung through the halls !- 
Where still o'er ruined Altars gaze 

Their gods in stone — with silent look, 
Expectant still of ancient praise 

Unread from Sarcedotal Book ! 
The Albanian slave beneath the shade 

Of Athen's ruin, drags his chain ; 
Or ruthless draws barbarian blade, 

But not his freedom to regain ! 
Minerva's temple goddessless. 

No longer claims his love or fear — 
The tread of Empires o'er him press, 

And Greece hath shrunk into a tear ! 



Here, even here where all seems new, 
As if but yesterday it grew. 



30 o-NA-wE-QUAn ; 



Bright, l;lushhig, l)e;uitifal and sweet, 
As Time had never touched with feet 
Dusty and worn the hiughing earth, 
Since first it came at Nature's birth — 
Cities? by forest trees o'er-grown — 
Arts, arms, and arehetect unknown — 
Wrapped in obscurity's dark folds, 
Unchronicled in History's scrolls — 
Traditionless ! beyond the power 
Of searching Science to restore ! 
Sleep on the sleep of ages past, 
And hold their slumbering mysteries fast. 
Yet in each change — what e'er it be 
The wisdom of God's plan we see ! 
Materials these, that serve again 
In links of the unbroken chain. 
Death feeds on life — and life from death 
Draws back again inspiring breath ; 
Corruption, and decay but give 
Sweet nutriment to things that live ! 
The nutrient grass feeds on the wind, 
And dews with sunbeams soft entwined — 
The flocks and herds upon it feed, 
And fatten, for still nobler need I 
Man feeds upon the flesh they yield, 
Drawn from the ever-bounteous field ; 
Proud man, too, sinks below the dust — 
Yet breaks again the o'erclosing crust, 
Lives in the willow-boughs that wave, 
And grass that mantles o'er his grave ! 



Aroused once more the paling fire 
Of energy and ancient ire, 
Once more the Braves assembled stood 
Before the monarch of the wood, 
And listened to the counsel grave, 
Of him, the good, the wise, the brave — 
The Patriot, Father, and the Sage, 
Unbowed by destiny or age ! 



THE KBTREAT. 3 J 



" Cliildren," he said, " my sight grows dim 

Strange visions o'er my eye-balls swim — 

And shrunk with years each trembling limb! 

A few more moons and I must go 

To bend in other fields the bow : — 

Already in my vapory breath 

I feel the clammy winds of death ; 

And stretched upon my withered hand 

Are shadows from the spirit-land ! 

I see from each disclosing bone, 

Death soon will claim me as his own ! 

Then what have I to lose or gain '? 

No dreams of life steal through my brain 

As flit before mine aged eyes 

The pictures of yon heavenly skies ! 

Nor do I ask one breathing hour 

To shield me from the monster's power- 

But bid him come! — ^my bow is strung!* 

My quiver on my back is slung! 

And these old limbs would gladly be 

Unburdened of a century ! 

Here let me rest, here " let me die : ■ 

But you, my children, you must fly! 
Already on the scented path 

Tlie painted foe comes in his wrath 

His hosts are sweeping o'er the plain 
Umiumbered as the drops of rain;— ' 
Fly ! fly ! to combat were in vain !" 



"Not while one drop of blood remains 

(The Panther said) unless with thee ! 

This same bright sod shall blush with stains 

And drmk the life thou gav'st to me! '' 

Let all the rest seek shclVring flight! 

Alone, with thee — methinks to die^ 

Would leave my bounding spirit light 

To roam the plains of yonder sky' 

Why linger here?— of all thy sons— 

Of all thy lather's princely line, 



3*i O-NA-WE-QU A n •, 



The last througli ^vllosc proud lioart there runs 

Of blood, a kindred dro^j to thine ! ;j 

My mother's hand is beck'ning there ! ■; 

My brother's feet pursue the chase — ' 

And I! I long to wing the air, j 

And end with me thy fated race! 

And yet — " ( A shadow o'er his face 

Betoken'd meni'ry's magic spell, 

As 'rose from out his heart a swell, j 

That flushed his cheek, and filled his eye 'i 

With light that might his words belie. ) I 

The old man saw and kindly said — ' 

"TTiy fathei-'s heart thine o\\-n hath read! ' j 

Too well I "feel, too well I know 'i 

Tlie secret of that crimson flow ! i 

My heart is old, my brain is sere — t 

Nor words of love have reached miine ear ■ 

For many a long f )rgotten year ; ' 

And yet the language of thine eye 

Is eloquent as yonder sky ; 

Of love and beauty ! Thou wouldst live, ij 

And shun the sacrifice 1 give! ' .j 

Then be it as thou wilt — and still 

Flow on the blood that I would spill; 

Flow on — nor I, nor thou, the last < 

To fall before the avenging blast !" 



Thus spoke the generous Chief, and old. 
And closer drew his blanket's fold ; 
His eyes still resting on his child, 
With all a parent's love beguiled ; 
ITis spirit balancing between 
The living and the bright unseen. 
As one who longed to fly away, 
Yet could not break the bonds of clay. 
The Panther's eye attraction found 
That held it firmly on the groimd — ■ 
Though striving vainly in his breast, 
To hide that which hh mien confcssc' 



THE KKTKEAT. 



Until the chief bade them i)repare 
To fly tiie dangers threatened there ; 
And said ; " I too will share the tlito, 
Whatever shall our steps await !" 



Collected soon, the last remains 
That held them to their native plains, 
They bid farewell to grove and mound. 
And severed every tie that bound — 
Save sueh as mem'ry throws about 
The heart of exile — wearing out 
As the heart wears — to only cease 
When death from bondage shall release — 
And hastened, Brave, maid, M'ife and boy, 
All, all, last of the Illinois ! 
Nor lingered, even now to gaze 
On objects loved of other days. 
Or leave one token of regret 
For scenes on which their hopes had set ! 
They sought once more the river's side 
To claim protection from its tide ; 
Its shelving banks, and fortresses 
Rock-built, withstanding dull decrees 
Of time — and elemental strife — 
Unscarrcd save l)y the water's kirife — 
Or where S(;me envious warrior bold 
With sculpture had his deeds enrolled, 
Aspiring to anticipate 
Renown, that echoes of the great 
Through long drawn aisles of centuries, 
And wafts away on every breeze — 
Thus gaining immortality 
Ere yet from mortal bondage free ! 



So too. the Pilgi-iui. (li-eadiiig more 
Forgclitiliicss than dcatli's dark sh..i-c, 

(5) O'er whidi the rocks ihcir shadows llin 



34 O-SX-SKE-QCAll ; 

Refreshing as the oi-ystal flood 
That wets his lij>s aiid cools his hlood — 
Deep in the stone "will carve liis name 
In letters emulous of fame ! 
So genius, too, in later tiine 
Toils on and writes in sands of rhj-me^ 
- With trembling hand an honest name, 
And dies, perchance forgot the same ! 



Far happier he who with his own 
Entwines some hero's tameward blown — 
Some AVashingtcn, by all revered — 
By freedom loved, by tyrants feared ! 
Some Adams, Statesman, Prophet, Sage — 
Foretelling truths to coming age ; 
Some Henry, skilled in magic art, 
With words to chill or warm the heart! 
Some Warrkn, deathless as the day 
On which he cast his life away ! 
Some Franklin, plucking from the wings 
Of Lighting plumage while he sings — 
These, with a host of heroes more, 
Who peopled once Columbia's shore — 
Might save by powers their own divine. 
The bard's who should their names enshrii 



Through many a gorge where quarrying stream 
Had waked the lime-stone from its dream 

Of myriad ages, on they passed — 
O'er rugged hill, and deep ravine 
That gaped like hung'ring grave between — 

Yet deem'd not now their bulwarks fast ; 
Till gained at length a towering stone 

Based in the waters broad and strong, 

Washed by the flowing waves along. 
And lifting high its lofty cone — 
Tliey stopped and gazecl upon the tower 
Of strength, and majesty, and power, 



THE RETRKAT. 35 



That like a momitnent npreared 
In memory of ages dead, 
Grander than Egypt's Pyramid ! 

Without an epitaph — appeared 
Defiant and approachless — save 
By entrance through a dismal cave 
That opened underneath the wave ; 

Tlience from the cavern to the sky, 
An upward crevice through the rock, 
Rent by some subterranean shock, 
Worn by the ever tinkling-feet 
Of water drops, that run and eat 
E'en from the marble's flinty side ; 

Led to the summit bold and high — 
That frowns forever on the tide 
Forever flowing round its base, 
And mocking its stern wrinkled face ! 



Again the old man raised his arm, 

And spread aroinid the j)ious charm, 

W^ith flattering holiness of mien 

As e'er by heathen god was seen; 

And eke, a holiness of heart. 

Forgotten in the Priestly art 

Of pious pomp, and sounding prayer. 

And incense odoring the air 

Of high-arched temples, splendor-built. 

By hands not all unstained in guilt ! 



The prayer was said, the offering done — 
Then slowly ent'ring one by one, 
Man, wife, and child — each danger spurned- 
Deep in the rock themselves inurned ; 
The Panther last, who with his men. 
Had left no trace where they had been; 
Each bended weed or grass replaced — 
Each foot-print in tbe sand effaced — 



36 O-NA-WE-QfTATi; 



Each fresh turned leaf returned agaiu, 
As long in searing sun-beams lain — 
E'en to the very steps, the last 
That led them to the rocky fast! 
Then clamb'ring up with slij^'ry hold, 
(Task for the desperate or hold) 
With cheering hope and laboring strength 
They gained the lofty top at length. 
Secure they thought from force or wiles, 
They lent their lips to cheering smiles ; 
Each heart beat free — each eye looked glad, 
Each face with rainbow-hope was clad; 
And soon from out their scanty horde, 
Too scant, alas ! they spread the board, 
And fed with relish long and keen, 
Like untamed horses on the green ! 



O NAWE QUAH ; 



A IiEGEND OF ZZ.LZirOIS. 



THE SIEGE. 



Already had the day grown old — 

Far down the western slope of heaven 
The chariot wheels of light had rolled, 

By glowing hands nnwearied driven ! 
Yet snltry seemed the sluggish breeze 

That stayed to sleep among the boughs, 
All motionless, of cedar trees 

That graced that huge rock's rugg'd brows; 
Already had the neigboring hills 

Flung down their shadows on the deep, 

Dark, boding, feai'fiil, like the sleep 
Of giants, whose huge slumber fills 

The mind with awe to think upon — 
Like death, by greatness multiplied ! 

And still the unconscious waters on. 
Flowed mnrmurins to the ocean's tide. 



Alone, old Ona-we-quah stood, 
High beetling o'er the moving flood, 
And watched, in glorious strife, the west 

Contending with the deep-grown shades, 
And holding to a life, at best 

But lasting till the twililight fades — 



38 O-NA-WE-QrAH; 



And thought — (ho may hnvQ thought of more) 
He, too, was liug'ring on the shore 
Between life's glinuneriug sun-set hour, 
And Deaths'— when darkness should devour 
Each trace of all the glorious rays, , 
Which had illumed his well spent days. 
Perchance he thought, t(jo, of the morn, 
When strength, and beauty he had worn — 
Of noondays' brightness, and the light 
His valor shed o'er many a fight ; — 
Of war — of council — and of dance — 
Of mother's look — of childrens' glance — 
Of loved one's loveliness perchance ! — 
No matter ! — on his eye full soon 
Loomed up the haze-enshrowded moon 

Above the hills, and forests brown : — 
And one by one on heaven's great shield 

Emblaz'ed, the stars in clusters shone — • 
And gemmed the azure of that field 

That seemed a subterraqueous zone, 
A thousand thousand fathoms down. 



The old chief turned his watery eye 
To gaze u])on the mimiced sky ; 
When, silently athwart his view 
Came gliding on a bark canoe, 
And bending low, beneath the shade 
Of that huge rock, an Indian maid ; 
Whose shadow kissed the trembling wave 
That seemed her graceful form to lave ; 
But e're his eye could mark the place 
It vanished, leaving not a trace. 
He called his men — with eager look 
They scanned each crevice, and each nook ; 
But naught could learil from sound or sight 
From whence it came — whereto its flight. 
Tliey saw the shadows of the stone — 
The trees, the crags — they saw their own — 



THE SIEGK. 39 



The hended skies, the stnrs, the moon, 
But mortal maid, or spirit none! 



They watched until the moon waxed dim 
And siHik below the water's brim ; 
Then placed around the sentinel, 
To watch and warn, what e'er befell ; 

But nothing niore was seen or heard, 
Save now and then the wild dog's howl, 
Or koo-koo-ko-ooh ! of the owl — 
The moaning of the cedar boughs 
Waked by the night winds from their drows«, 

Till morning, cheered by beast and bird, 
Arose from out the royal east 
Adorned as for a marriage feast, 
And banished with her wand of light 
The gloomy spectres of the night. 



Morn came — and night and morn again 
Three times exchanged their queenly reign, 
Meanwliile the foe, with wily care 
Had traced the victims to their lair ; 
And ere the third night's moon, blood-red 
Had blanched before the gates of heaven, 
To silvery paleness, or 'had fled 
The twilight-gentleness of even' — 
On either shore, rock, hill, ravine, 
The savage host by thousands seen, 
Uncovered, and sent forth a yell — 

A shout of such demoniac rage, 
That on the trembling listeners fell 

Like palsy down the limbs of age ! 
And startled on their rocky hold 

The fugitives with new-born fears 
As from the hills loud echoes rolled 

The mad cry back upon their ears! 
The wild l)easts fled — with scream unheard, 
Far flew the gr;n-wingo(l god-like bird : 



40 O-XA-AVE-QUAH : 



lll-oiiuaK-cl ! leaving Laro his brood, 
UiiHc'dgc'd, unfed with garnered food! 
E'en Ona-we-quah's stolid breast 
The terrors of the hour confessed. 
While shuddered, hugging close the ground 
The remnant of his tribe around. 



Hour after hour the frenzied foe, 
With hui-tling stone, and long drawn-bow, 
In vain assayed the rock to storm — 
For length of bow and strength of arm 
Availed them naught against that tower — 
In vain their numbers, force, and power ! 
Their shafts fell broken from its side: 
Their missiles sinik deep in the tide : 
And when the Iwave one's thought to scale 
Its battlements, a deadly hail 
Drove back the vanquished to its base, 
In blood their footsteps to retrace. 



Wau-eon-sie, baffled of his prey. 
Held parley then till coming day ; 
And counsel took, and plans revealed 
Of stratagems, and wiles concealed; 
And oifered to his Braves reward 
Tor daring feats, and dangers hard. 



Morn came again. High from the rock, 
The Illinois hurled back tlie shock 
Of voices ! By success inspired — 
Tlieir hearts again by valor fired — 
They bid defiance, one and all, 
T(j every effort to enthrall ; 
And mingled threats with epithets. 
To sting their foes with vain regrets : 
Bidding their chief, with all his men 
Ap}iroaeh the cunluies ul' their den — 



41 



CaJlod them all women, t^owards, boys, 
Children, who still should play with toys- 
Set snares for birds, and fish for min's — 
Deal only in soft rabbit skins — 
And then with fiendish laugh, they threw 
Small pebbles at the infuriate crew. 



The seventh day came. As o'er the clouds 
The sun beamed out through hazy shrouds, 
His face looked redder than before — 
Anticipating human gore 
To mingle with the vapory breath 
Eespired from off the foggy heath. 
His brow burned fiercely — and his gaze 
Sent forth its sultriest, withei'ing rays, 
Till on the top of that high wall, 
BeleagLired, and surrounded all, 
First saw, first felt, with dreadtul sense 
Of human pride's frail impotence. 
Those castled kings, their tower of strength 
Changed to a prison's. narroM^ length — 
While through each vein a burning thirst 
Coursed to their hearts, with pain accurst ; 
And hunger, bare of tooth and eye 
Stared in their faces angrily ! 
Then babes cried out, and tugged in vain 
Their mother's withered breasts to drain ; 
And children, in their innocence, 
Unconscious of the dread susj)ensc, 
Impatient, tortured with desire. 
C4rew frantic with consuming fire. 
While stately warriors stern as eld, 
A secret council grimly held. 
And stared each other in the eye 
As if to see who first should die ! 
For one must go — let him be brave ! 
To steal from out the free-born Mave 
((;>) The cooling medicine to tave ! 



42 O-.SA-WK-iiUAli ; 



One went, but novor more returned 
To slake the thirst of those who burned — 
Another, and the third, the same 
Dread pathway went, but never came ! 

Still watched the foe. As bigots feel 

When martyrs shriek beneath their steel, 

So felt the Potawattomie — 

And laughed with savage enmity 

As reached their ears, from deep distress, 

Groans nature's powers could not suppress. 

But, eagar to anticipate. 

And snatch revenge from hands of fate, 

A few more hardy in their hate, 

Determined now to scale the wall, 

And hold like wolves a carnival 

O'er starving men, and dying wives, 

And babes unconscious of their lives. 



Full fifty men have gained the cave- 
Still others emulate the brave,! 
Till closed at length the narrow way 
That leads from darkness up to day 
No more can enter, but await 
With envy noAv their comrades fate, 
Who in their eagerness forget 
There's fearful danger o'er them yet. 
Soon from the cavern's lowly bed 
High up a living chain hath sped, 
Still dragging from the coil below 
New links, as moves it upward slow 
And presses on ; — but not unseen ! 
With watchful eye and careful mien, 
The Panther saw their deep intent, 
And fiercely smiling o'er them bent. 
And listened, till be heard the low 
F;uiit crcpitMnr-c of iriotidu slow — 
Tlion (.Ij\'w a--idi-. and rulleiJ. alone. 



THE SIEGE. 43 



Close to the creviee-brink a stone ; 
Poised on its side the ponderous weight, 
(Dread engine of revenge and hate) 
And watehed with cat-like vigilence, 
And murderous passion's deep suspense, 
Until, at last, a swarthy hand 
Eeached out, and grappled in the sand, 
But insecure, was quickly thrown, 
AVith giant grasp upon the stone. 



The treacherous rock turned on its poise — 
And never yet was heard such voice — 
Such wail of anguish — ^crash, and groan — 
Shriek of despair — and sob, and moan — 
Commingled ■\^dth the shock and jar, 
Like rolling thunders heard afar — 
Increasing, and receding, as 
The echoes chronicled the pass 
Of that huge messenger of Death, 
That left no living thing beneath ! 



Fierce gleamed the Panther's burning eye, 

As welling from the deep abyss. 
Arose the deep'ning crimson dye. 

Pressed from the hearts of enemies ! 
One yell of triumph from his tongue. 
Though crisp and parched, yet wildly rung, 
And startled with its magic thrill. 
The slumbering echoes of the hill — 
Till from its crag'd and creviced side 
It seemed a thousand tongues replied! 
And roused by its exulting tone. 
Like beings bodied from the stone. 
The remnant of that little band 
Arose, as waiting for command. 
And looked defiance from their eyes, 
Filmed with the mist of future skies, 



44 o-NA-wi:-Qr AM ; 



Whei\'U) their kindred flesh iiud ilnwii — 
Already eUiiminy; thein tlieir dwtil 



Still stood old OxA-WE-QT-Ai-i there, 

Unyielding ! great above despair ! 

Stern as the rock on which he stood — 

As brave as great, as great as good! 

And gazed once more upon his clan 

In silence, viewing eveiy man. 

Whose parched lips spokjp not — and Miiose eyes, 

Deep-sunken, gave back no replies, 

As they were wont in other days 

AVhen answering Ona-we-quaii's gaze ! 

Then turning to his noble son, 

He said : '■ the deed which thou hast done 

Is worthy of thy father's blood ! — 

Which long enough hath poured its flood 

Tlirough mighty hearts, and noble veins ! 

Yet while one drop of it remains — 

But no ! — it cannot be ! — no more, 

From heart to heart shall it still pour, 

Of chiefs illustrious as the Sun ! 
The Illinois' long race is run ! 

Enough ! Our daughters sleep in death ! 

Our sons have yielded up their breath ! 

Our babes no longer cry for food ! 

Go look upon that famished brood, 

And say — shall still upon the nest 

The old bird ply his withered breast ? 

In vain ! No life can he impart — 

While dries the fountain at his heart ! 

No ! bravely let him seek his prey, 

And daring fling his life away! 

Lead on my son ! Of all my line, 

Thou art the last ! Let it be thine, 

To lead thy father's spirit hence, 

To lands of nobler recompense ; 

Where twice ten-thousand souls shall greet 

With feast and dance our coming feet, 



TflK SiE(JF. 45 



And fill our s])iri;-ti'il)e rejoice, 
Tliou wer't the last Ijrave Jr.LiNOif?!' 



I'he Panther listened to his sire. 
Whose words fell on his heart like lire 
From heaven ! and kindled hi each vein 
Fresh burnings, nothing' could restrain ! 
Then hurling through the rock his voice, 
The war-cry of the Illixois — 
As o'er the craggy cliffs it rung, 
Deep down the opening way he sprung; — 
Led on his men through that deep gorge, 
Once more a terror and a scourge ! 
Down, down they went, till reached below 
The cave 'round which the waters flow — 
Now 'cumbered with the mangled dead, 
Piled high upon the petrous ])ed, 
Crushed, bleeding, torn, yet silent all — 
While o'er them hung a humid pall, 
Yet dripping with their own hearts' gore, 
That curdled on the damp cold floor. 
And stood in trembling masses there. 
As if instinctive still with fear, 
And shuddered as the Panther's feet 
Strode through it in his fierce retreat ! 



One moment in that dreadful hall. 

Itself a timid heart might 'pall, 

The Panther rested, till each Brave 

Had safely reached the gory cave ; 

And triumphed o'er the shapeless forms 

Of those who'd passed life's ruthless storms ; 

And gazed exultant o'er the pile 

Of victims to his murderous wile ; 

Then turned, and met with flashing eye 

His father's, filled with prophecy. 

More truthful than the chal dean-stars 

E'er gave to learned astrologers : — 



I 

4G o-N.v-^VK-QrATr; 



"And speaking, as from other spheivs, 
A language whicli no tongue 'can tell ! 

Like Love's when answering through her tears- 

That rnelts the heart with sympathy, 

Which words, with all the melody 
Of song could never do so well ! 

A strange divinity of eye, 

Which meaner souls abashed will fly ! 

Which conquers by its majesty ! 



Such look was in the old man's face, 
As, turning from the deed he'd done. 
It fell upon that noble son — 

The last of all his princely race ! 
And thrilled with magic power his soul. 
That yielded not to love's control. 
Or fears ! — Not even to despair ! 
That look ! But . once he met its glare— 
Nor dared again confront the sjJell, 
Tliat spoke as from an oracle ! 
For, till that moment, in his breast 
Had lingered, 'though not all at rest, 
A faith, a hope, still undefined ; 
A something subtler far than mind — 
An impress which coarse human mould 
Can never body forth — or hold 
Subservient to its fleshly thrall : — 
The Panther saw and felt that all, 
All now was over ! and again 
Led on their way his desperate men! 



Forth issuing from the cavern dank. 
They gained the river's shelving bank — ■ 
Stood on its brink and gazed around, ■ 
Undauntedji o'er the encumbered ground. 
Once more the startled rocks resound ! 
As from the hills descending came 
Like hung'ring winds, and thirsting flame, 



•ijiK -~ik(;k. 47 



That host, which long had fed its liato 

t)n hopes grown almost desperate ! 

But had they known by how much more 

Than hate, those warriors on that shore, 

Inspired by resolute decree 

To spend their lives more worthily, 

Had come — without a }i«pe or fear — 

But only that it cost them dear 

Who purchase — and to expiate 

The wrongs of unpi-opitious fate ! 

They'd not have come so boldly on — 

Or thought, already victory won ! 



Unmoved the Panther and his Braves 
Keceived the rude impulsive waves. 
Mad, furious, foaming, as if lashed 

By tempests, onward still they came — 
But like the waves on breakers dashed 

A«d broken, soon fell back the same. 
Yet left they many a wreck behind 
Victims of passions madly-blind! 
Whilst still defiance hurling back. 
With death-blows falling round their track, 
The Illinois maintained their stand. 
And dealt forth vengeance on each hand ! 
Still taunted they their foes with sneer! 
Shamed them for coward-woman's fear ! 
Bade them go seek in yonder's cave 
Their brothers, in a bloody grave ! 
Laughed at the dead around them strown, 
And urged their savage natures on ! 



AVliat need ! At length Wau-bon-sie came 
In rage with which all else were tame! 
Led on his men — and with his arm, 
Protected by some Prophet's charm, 
(eased not to strike, till, one by one, 
All but l.hc ;igcd .sire ami sou. 



48 



-NA-WK-QLAIi; 



Of that brave baud the earth had pressed, 
With life extinguished in each bi'east : 
Whilst they, firm-standing, side by side, 
The honors of their race divide! 
With arms unscathed they held at bay 
The menial warriors — strong as they 
In limbs — but •not in souls — which make 
Heroes god-like ! and cowards quake 
Before that ail prevading sense 
Of greatness, like omnipotence, 
Which flashes from the eye of worth 
And quells the soul of meaner birth ! 



Wau-con-sie 'bating then his rage, 
WMch blood alone might not assuage — 
Beholding those proud chieftai)is stand, 
The last of all their house and band ! 
Waved back his men — and bade them yield, 
With promise of their lives, the field ! 
The Panther made him no reply — 

But turned away disdainfully. 
As if to mark the far-off sky, 

Which hung above so peacefully ! 
Whilst Ona-we-quah calmly said : — • 
" No ! never ! Here aurong the dead — 
My brothers, and my children, I 
Must finish my career and die ! 
Strike ! I am worthy of thy brand ! 
'Though age hath withered my strong hand — 
And he alone is left, of all 
Who once obeyed my regal call : 
Strike ! for 'I spurn the life thou would'st give- 
And would not turn on my heel to live !' " 



" Not thme the choice !'' the chief returned, 
As on his brain the proud words burned : 
"Thy ancient limbs my men shnll bind— 
And tliou, my captive, when couJined, 



THE SIEGE. 49 



With him, that son, whom once I spared; 
And all my generous board hath shared — 
Both, both shall grace my captive throng, 
Bound hand and foot with many a thong : 
And then, where stands the burning stake, 
We '11 see whose coward limbs shall quake ! 
And know, old chief ! whate'er betide. 
Thy tortures equal shall thy pride !" 



But ere the Potawattomie 
Had ceased, there came a signal cry, 
From underneath the shelving side 
Tliat marked the bound'ry of the tide, 
Which startled, as from out the tomb, 
The Panther shrouded there in gloom, 
Scorning alike captivity. 
Or freedom, to do aught but die ! 
_ When on his ear that signal fell 
' Too early known — too long — too well ! 
Though fear had conquered not, his soul 
Shrunk flying under love's control — 
And with one leap he. scaled the edge 
Of that precipitous dark ledge ! 
A shout was heard far down below — 
Then, like an arrow from a bow 
Shot forth, appeared upon the view 
The spectre of a frail canoe — 
That like a spirit skimmed the v>axe 
Bearing away the rescued Bra^e ! 
For none believed that mortal hand 
Gave to it motion or command — 

Much less a timid maid could do ! 
Some thought they saw a maiden's form- 
Some, but the shadoM' of an arm — 

Wau-bon-sie only knevv' ! 
And felt the crimson of its shame 
Spread o'er his proud exultant frame 

And liar-li Ills burning pulses through! 
(7) With (kadiy litite, and deadly aim, 



'90 O-XA-WE-QUAII ; 



His bloody Axe in vengeance came. 

And glanced like lightning through the air, 

A fearful death-winged messenger! 



As bending, dipped the slender oar, 
Full at the maiden's swelling side 
The infuriate cliief his skill had tried — 

Oh God ! but for one moment more ! 

But no ! It must not, cannot be ! 

Thy pure fond heart's warm flowing tide 
Must gush from out that wounded side 

And stain thy Ibrm with hues, that he 

Thy father ! will exult to see. 



And is it thus thou art repaid 

For all thy toil and trust fair maid? 

This the reward for all that thou 

Hast suffered — liopefully, till now? 

For all thy love, so fond, so pure — 

For which e'en death thou wouldst endure? 

Fair victim of love's constancy ! 
Man loves but feebly! woman dies, 
Still clinging to the heart's dear prize, 

Unmindful of its treachery ! 



All eyes w^ere turned with fixed intent 
Upon the wrath-sped instrument. 
True to its instincts and its aim — 
Yet all mistook the fated game, 
Nor dreamed the chieftain's only child 
Whom every warrior's heart beguiled 
With beauty, braN^ery, and trust. 

Was she to fall beneath that blow — " 
Was she to feel that dreadful thrust — • 

And yet they felt no common foe 
Deserving of such foaiful skill — 
Such mii:;ht, and cucrv^v of will, 



THE SIEGE. 51 



And arm, and heart, as moved the chief 
To hurl with such malignant force 
His brand, unerring in its coarse, 

And aimed to strike with deadly grief! 



Unerring — had the Panther's eye 

Less truthful or less piercing been — 
His own axe leaped into the sky 

Obedient to his senses keen — 
And met midway, with sudden shock 

And paralysing power the blade 
Which trembled, as with palsy struck. 
Shivered, and fell upon the rock, 

Leaving unscathed the beauteous maid ! 



" Well done my boy !" The old man cried, 

Exulting in a father's pride — 

Then waved the flying pair adieu ! 

While round the rock the light canoe 

By Nee-nah's him still safely steered, 

Lost in the shadows disappeared ! 

" Ours be the quarrel !" then he said : 

" Come on !" A thousand arrows sped 

From strings a thousand foemen pressed — 

And pierced old 0-na-we-quah's breast ! 

Without a groan, without a sigh. 

He sunk, still gazing on the sky, 

Whereto his noble spirit fled — 

To join the brave — the beautiful — the dead! 



THE END. 



Sisaltoefltts f^ms. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 55 



THE OLD OAK TREE. 



The old Oak tree! look yonder where it stands — 
Its rough bark ribbed and wrinkled o'er with years! 

Spreading its arms wide ont with generous hands — 
Undaunted — great above all hopes or fears ! 



Winter hath stripped it now of all its leaves, 

And torn the garments from its strong-nerved boughs- 
Above all sorrows, too, it never grieves; 

But looks composure from its mighty brows. 



Spring now is coming ; soon will its strong heart 
Renew its motion, and each swelling vein 

The nutrient flood bear on. Fresh buds shall start, 
And blossoms cluster o'er its limbs a^ain. 



And Summer's hand shall finish its rich robe — 
An Emperor's cloak enfold it — ^born a king 

O'er all the wooded Empires of the globe ! 
Sealed at its birth with Nature's signet-ring. 



Calm, dignified, and noble — as I gaze 

I almost worship its majestic form. 
And draw still nearer ; tongueless in my praise — 

Awed, as its leaves are by approaching storm ! 



Stern, unrepining, generous, hero-born — 
Bearing unmoved its mighty destiny — 

Naked or clad — whom flattery nor scorn 
Can change vr bow — this, this is majesty ! 



56 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



DOWN THE LANE. 



Down the long lane, in the country, 
Stood a Cottage fair to see; 

Shaded 'round with creeping ivy ; 
Shaded 'round ^^■ith many a tree ; 

And a Paradise it secmeth, 
Passina; fair, in niemorv. 



DoAvn the long lane, in the country, 
Lived a Maiden, nameless here ! 

Lovelier than the flowers around her, 
Purer than the pearliest tear; 

And an Angel now she seemeth, 
As in dreams she draweth near ! 



Down the long lane, in the country, 
Eennel now, and weeds have grown 

Yet, when e'er I pass along it 

Shadows o'er my path are thrown ; 

Ancient sliadows, that come o'er me 
As from out another zone! 



Down the long lane, in the country, 
Time has wrough fidl many a change ; 

Thither, now, no spirit Avoes me — 
Seldom there my foot-steps range : 

And the way-side love-deserted, 
Coldly seeiueth. lone. ar>d strange! 



MISCiSLLAKEOUS POBM*. 57 



WINTER RAIN. 



How dreary is the winter rain — 

How dismal, and how dark the hour- 
How bitter, and how cold the shower, 

That never seems the clouds to drain ! 



How spiritless the winter rain. 

It hath no voice to make it grand ! 

No lightnings leap from out the hand 
That drives it o'er the land and main ! 



There is no cheer in winter rain, 

Like that which falls in April days — 
Which swelling buds, and flowers all praise- 

And brings forth laughter from the plain ! 



The groves lament the winter rain. 
Bereft of all their Summer leaves — 
Their bare arms dripping like the eaves, 

Are stiffened, it would seem, with pain ! 



Nor man, nor beast loves winter rain. 
It brings no joy — suggesteth none ! 
It comes with sigh, and wail, and moan- 
(8) It chills the hesrt, and chills the brain. 



58 MISCELLANEOUS POSIMS. 



i 

i 

10 N e/ ] 



I'm not alone! 
For thy sweet 'semblance, as a constant lover's 
Forever near me, like a spirit hovers, 

Fairest lone !* 



All night in dreams, 
My soul inviting doth thy form receive — 
My lips to thine in rapturous kisses cleave 

Till morning gleams ! 



From early Spring, 
When floral morning first begins to dawn, 
Till eve-like Autumn speads out o'er the lawn 

Her russet wing — 



Still thou art there, 
Forever near me, and forever dear ! 
Lighting my griefs as friendship lights a tear, 

Thou more than fair ! 



When northern winds 
With wintry voices wail along the shore, 
Or summer zephyrs woo me from the door 

Among the vines j 



HI3CSLLANE0U3 POEMS. 59 



In lands remote, 
Where to old Ocean Hudson pours its tide, 
Or Mississippi rolls in all his pride, 

It matters not; 



The same art thou ! 
A magic presence, born to |he. within, 
From memory of that which might have been, 

But may not now. 



Lovely lone! 
Wer't thou but real — and this heart of mine, 
As constant, pure and loving still as thin© — 

Our life 'as one ; 



What joy to me 
Thus to embrace thee ! E'en thy spirit form 
Thrills me with pleasure — and my pulses warm 

With thoughts of thee! 



MISCELLANEOUS POKMS, 1 

THE MAID AND THE POOR. i 



Out, out, all is light — 

All is bright! 
And the snow all aglow, 
Sparkles, and dazzles the maiden's eye 

As she passes by. 

In her furs and her hood, 

And her youthful blood, 

She seemeth good 

As she passes by — 

And the rosy hue 
Of her cheek, and the blue 
Of her eye, like the sky. 
Through which angels might gaze 
With the holiest rays 
Of love — but why, why, why — • 
Why do I fear, my maiden dear 
Is not what she seemeth to be? — 

Because I know the winds may blow, 

And the Ice-King reign 

O'er land and main — 

With frosty chain, 
Linking the limbs of the suffering poor ! 

Piercing with pain 
The shivering, hungry, fireless poor! 

With merciless pain, 
Crushing the hearts of the dying poor. 

And I know this maid hath passed their door 
Her purse well filled with golden store, 

With her furs and hood. 

And her youthful blood, 

In a haughty mood — 

Nor stopped nor stood, 
Nor looked, nor thought, nor cared for the poor ! 



MISCEI-I.ANEOUS FORMS. 61 

APRIL. 

April is here ! 
Another segment in the magic ring 

That circlos 'round the earth ! the Seasons' zone — ■ 
And brings fresh gladness, and bright joys that spring 
From hopes renewed, and promises its own — 
Gem of the year ! 

April is here ! 
An emerald clasp, that joins the rough and rude 

With all that's smooth and lovely ! — March and May. 
A thousand jewels o'er its surface strewed, 
With beauty sparkle in the morning's ray, 
Brilliant and clear! 

April is here ! 
And with it come, what light, and life, and love! 

The laughing rivulet, and smiling flowers — 
Leaves, buds and blossoms — and within the grove 
What charming voices hymn the morning hours 
With praise sincere ! 

April is here! 
Along the sedgy margin of the Lakes 

Are many marriages. The forest boughs 
Are all hymenial altars. Love awakes 
Wherever life is, breathing out its vows 
To gladdened ear ! 

April is here ! 
Once more ! — and with it, ah ! what memories ! 

'Mid all this life, and love, there's many a heart 
Feels yet the wanting — deeper feels when these 
Remind them of the lost — and tears will start- 
Quick April tears ! 



63 MISCBLLANKOUS POEMS. 



THE LOST AND BEAUTIFUL ONE. 



There's a tear in my heart, and a tear in my eye, 

Never dry ! 
There's a fear in my breast ; when I work, when I rest, 

I'm oppressed, 

And I sigh 
For the love of the lost and the beautiful one! 



There's a frown on my heart, and a frown on my brow; 

(Sorrows plow — ) 
And I moan low and deep, when awake, when asleep, 

And I weep — 

Then, and now, 
For the love of the lost and the beautiful one! 



There's a scar on my heart, and a scar on my tongue, 

'Though I'm young — 
And a sore that I fell, though Ide'l, will not heal — 

And I reel 

Conscience stung — 
When I think of the lost and the beautiful one! 



There's a tale in my heart — a dark story within, 

Of my sin — 
And I pale, and I start, and my heart seems to part 

With the smart — 

For I've been, 
O ! how false, to the lost and the beautiful one ! 



M1SCELLANKO0S POEMS. -63 



NOVEMBER NIGHT. 



November night ! behold ! the winds have burst 
Their prison bars, and sweep along the vale! 
The gentle zephyrs on cold biers lie hearsed, 



Borne far away before the rising 



The brown-haired forest trees their locks have rent, 
And strown upon the earth with deep lament! 



No longer now from hazel-copse, or grove, 
Is heard the Whip-poor-will's familiar song ; 

Nor o'er the marsh is seen, lighting his love, 
The gallant fire-fly 'mid a starry throng ! 

No more from yon lone pool the grave old frog 

Sounds his hoarse notes through evening's silvery fog. 



No more the cricket or grasshopper sings — 
Or Katy-did's dispute among the leaves ; 

No more the Robin folds to rest his wings, 
Or Swallows twitter from our nest-built eaves ! 

These, too, have died — or vanished like the bloom, 

Leaving November cheerless as the tomb! 



Alas ! the changes since the songs of May — 
The fragrance and the luxury of June ; 

The golden pomp of August — with its lay 
Of busy reapers, as the fields they prune! 

E'en Dolphin-like October's dying hues 

Were beautiful, and loved by every muse! 



64 MISCELLANEOUS POKMS. 



Yet listen ! there are sounds abroad to-night ! 

The grove is not all silent — though its voice 
Speaks only of its sorrows, and the blight 

Of tyrant blasts, that Nero-like rejoice, 
Whilst ruin, as a conflagration bares 
Its structure rude — nor life nor beauty spares. 



Hark, too, the moaning of the pine-clad hills — 
That stand like towers between us and the sea, 

Old Michigan ! whose voice majestic fills 
Tlie mind with awe, and wakes sublimity ! 

Hear the waves roar — and the wild harmony 

Of winds, that pipe their surf-keyed minstrelsy ! 



High over all, bleached by the wintry moon, 
Like snow-fields drift the light and flaky clouds. 

Distant and cold they seem — yet all too soon 

To wrap the world about with death-like shrouds ! 

Already Boreas hath his trumpet blown. 

And Nature answered with deep sighs and moan. 



November night ! Ah me ! how many hearts 
Have also their dead flowers, and fallen leaves! 

When love no longer life or warmth imparts, 

Hope moon-like mocks, and memory o'er them grieves ! 

Spring to the groves fresh beauty soon Avill bring — 

The broken heart hath no returning Spring. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. C5 



THE MAIDEN'S TOWER. 

A LEGEND OF HITN&ARY. 



In Schemitz lived, in olden time, 

A man, whose heart was set on gain; 

Nor ever lent to love or rhyme, 

Nor ever swelled Avith prayerful strain. 



Day after day, in caverns damp 
And dai'k recess, he dug the ore, 

And counted, by his midnight lamp, 
In secret, all his sparkling store. 



At length, so rapidly his pile 
Increased, his fellow-miners knew. 

That Demons with their magic wile. 
Had joined him to their hellish crew. 



And thus it was ! — so vast his store — 
So fast his wealth had multiplied— 

In vain he strove to count it o'er. 
And unrepentant — sudden died ! 



Him and his son — his only boy — 

Unshrived ! The miscreants from below, 

Laughed as they came with fiendish jo}^, 
To drag them dovni to realms of woe! 



An only daughter, Barbara, 

Was left to claim his Avealth ill-got, 

And as she grew from day to day, 

Fresh beauties crowned her wond'rous lot 



•C6 MISCELLANKOUS POEMS. 



Vain Avas she of her wealth, and vain 
Of beauty whieh no mortal shared. 

She thought with wealth to hanish pain — 
With beauty, Heaven's revenge she dared! 



Loose lenians then she gathered 'round 
And lords of pleasure gay and young ; 

Her house M'as as enchanted ground — • 
With revelry and music rung. 



And feast and dance, and every joy 
That gold could buy or beauty bring. 

So varied, never yet to cloy — 

So constant, life seemed ever Spring ! 



And thus she lived, and thus — but why 
One morning all so still within'? 

Had Heaven avenged from out the sky 
On her, the loathsomeness of sin 1 



Not all on her ! high from a tree 
Tliat canopied her window's height, 

Her lovers hanging, one, two, three, 

Swung back and forward, day and night. 



Night after night the whad did blow — 
Strange voices fdled the air around; 

Still swimg her lovers to and fi'o, 

And creaked their chains with mournful sound. 



Ail ghastly stared each countenance, 
And each on Bar})ara did gaze, 

As on their forms she oft did glance 

Her eyes, that seemed with fire to blaze ! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 67 



Long time, nor feast nor revelry, 

Was heard those charmed walls within 

Some said "that from the Devil she 
Her soul, if penitent, might win !" 



Then Barbara who scorned to hear 
Such said, besought the judges fair, 

That they would move her friends so dear 
From out the ever hungering air ! 



But said the judges sternly " nay ! 

Still let them waste, till every bone 
Disclose its terrors, Barbara: 

For thee — and thy souFs good alone ! 



Go look upon their forms— and -when 
Thy followers are feasting high 

With mirth and song — go listen then — 
And hear them to the night winds sigh. 

Then promised she, with oaths to spare, 
Would they but take the bodies down, 

That she Avould build a castle there. 
And leave it to her native town. 



Then were the judges mollified. 

And said "we grant thy just request, 

Soon let thy towers be edified, 

And thou by all the world be blessed !' 



And builded she a castle strong 

In Schemnitz, fenced with silver wall, 

Where flows the sparkling Gran along 
And answers to the mountain's cull. 



C8 MISCELLANEOUS TOEMS. 



But ere the castle's tower was rcased- 
Ere yet the corner stone was laid, 

In all her ancient ways appeared — 
Magnificent in sin — the maid ! 



The castle walls were almost done, 
The tower went beetling through the air, 

High up the massive pile had won 
Its way, and proudly rested there.. 



And Barbara was bolder yet ; 

And spread her banquet on the side 
Gf Gran's fair stream, Avhcre gaily met 

Her wassailers to feast her pride. 



Then murmured all the citizens 

And said — " No good can come of this !" 
And oracles from priestly pens 

Poreshadowed doom of wickedness ! 



And one foretold that poverty 

Swift-winged, indignant heaven would send; 
At which she laughed — vain Barbara ! 

And scorned her sinful ways to mend. 



Then from her jeweled hand she drew 

A costly ring disdainfully, 
And far into the waters threw 

The sparkling band of jewelry : 



And said with scornful lip " as sure 
As this I never more shall see. 

My bounteous treasures shall endilre. 
Nor heaven indignant frown on me." 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 60 

But ere the impious words were said 
The lady's pride was clianged to fear ; 

The favorite of her house fell dead — 
Her dog — she'd cherished many a year! 



And loved — perhaps her only love, 

That changed not with her fancy's change- 

And now her constancy to prove — 

That death could not her heart estrange; 



She buried him with pomp and show, 
With Christian burial, and rite! 

But soon the grave began to glow 
With heat— and ghastly lurid light — 



And round about, the gaping earth 
^ Ope'd wide its' lips with parting flame ! 
Fierce tongues of fire leaped hissing forth — 
Huge rocks, ignited, burning came, 



And rent the air with shock and groan ! 

Then sunk again, and darkness left : 
But grave of man, or dog, was none ! 

And in the earth's deep side was cleft 

A pit, all bottomless and dread ! 

And fiends were heard to laugh deep dowii- 
And wail of anguish, from the dead 

That slept not, mingled with the somid. 
* * -^ * * * * 

The tower was finished — and the maid, 

Still unrepentant, banqueted 
Once more her friends — more costly laid ''^ 

The cloth, with viSnds richly spread. -^ 



70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



And Barbara to carve tho fish 

Fresh taken from the silvery Gri'an,. 

Arose — but lo ! upon the dish 
Fell out her jeweled fmger-span ! 



Then turned the lady pale with dread 
Remembering each dire prophecy — 

Nor tasted she of wine or bread : 
But stared as if gaunt poverty, 



And hunger, dread of tot^^th and eye — 

And leprous sin, all pestilent 
With damp cold breath, were standing by,J 

And touchins; her with lingers bent : 



And Avhispering in her pale round ear, 
Tliat felt no tinge of blood the while, 

Some secret avvfulness to hear ! 
For never after did she smile : 



But like a ghost kept nightly hours. 

And wandered through tlie lonely halls — 

Now where the dungeon's darkness lowers, 
She listened to mysterious calls — 



Which none might hear but she alone ! 

Her wealth all vanished — soon she died- 
And found to bury her, were none. 

For all, her beauty, wealth and pride! 



At length some ancient friends, from shame,. 

With shroud and coffin rudely made,j 
In secret to the castle came. 

And trembling, in the bodv laid ! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 71 



But e'er they reached the open grave, 
Hed lightnings danced along the sky — 

Mad thunders through the clouds did ra-s'c, 
And hailstones blinded soon each eye ! 

Then dropped they down in fear and awe, 
Their mistress — gazing on the hrow 

Of heaven's great majesty — and law 
Proclaiming judgment on them now ! 



Dark, hideous, full of wrath, and woe — 
All nature seemed transformed ! The air 

To giant winds mad wrestling — lo ! 
And all the clouds red in their "hire ! 



And 'underneath, midway between 
The doleful pit, and brazen sky. 

The pelting hail, each drop was seen, 
Changed to a hound with hellish cry 

Each dog a fiend ! that howling fell 
Upon the corpse, and bore away 

The body, dragging down to hell, 
The maiden — sinful Barbara ! 



In M^itness of this truthful tale. 

The maiden's tower in Schemnitz stil 

Lifts up its battlements, nor fail 
Its never lying chronicle ! 



72 MISCELLANEOUS TOEMS. 



THE FOREST CEMETERY, 



If I were now to choose my resting' place, 
The spot of earth whereto I would return 
When life's gray twilight dai'kens into death — 
'Twould be beneath the lofty leafy arch 
Of " God's first temples," with their mossy aisles, 
And wondrous domes, fir from the haunts of man ! 
For therewithin is a calm holiness, 
A deep toned worship, not of human form, 
From out the very hearts of Nature's .best 
And purest children, uncommuned with creeds ! 
Where voice of birds, and whispering leaves, and boughs 
Of reverential trees, with perfumed flowers, ^ 
Mingle their incense with the organed wind, 
Filled with brave anthems and melodious songs ! 
There let me lie — there let me rest and sleep ! 
Not that my bed were softer, or my rest 
More calmly beautiful ! It matters not 
To me, whether my body, moi'tal and frail 
(Short habitude of the undying self. 
That seeks a lovelier mansion in the realms 
Of that all-wondrous world toward which we fly,) 
Becomes the food of mossy-toothed Decay, 
Or feeds the fishes of the briny ' deep — 
Smoulders beneath the overdosing sod. 
Or mingles with the vapors of the winds ! 
That is material, and must serve again 



MISCELLAXEOCS POEMS. 73 



The purposes of God in his great work : 
But for the living would I choose my tomb ! 
That, if perchance a living wanderer 
This side eternity should seek the spot, 
Led by the links of memory to my grave, 
'Twould be a place congenial with the thought, 
In harmony with feelings prompted there, 
And suitable for musings, such as man 
Should yield his soul to wh'3n he contemplates 
The universe of God, himself, his being, 
Life, changes, and his final destiny ! 

Not underneath monastic aisles — nor yet 
Within the bosom of a pyramid — 
Nor in a columned sepulchre of stone — 
Nor in the art-encumbered cemet'ry — 
Nor in the churchyard's gloom, with palings round 
"Where voice of Sectary might echo o'er — 
But in the lonely wood! 

No, not the lone ! 
For there is life in every lovely tree, 
And beauteous Avarblers in each bending bough, 
All innocent, and full of cheerful praise, 
Thanksgiving hymns, and worship nature taught! 
Where he who comes to weep (I wish it not) 
Might lend his ear to the Almighty's voice, 
Pouring in the spirit of creative love 
Through every channel of his feeling sense, 
Stilling the passions born of earth and Eve, 
And mingling in his heart a cup of joy 
From M^hich his soul might drink, and teel, indeed, 
This hath no touch of bittei;ness ! 

If it might be, i would a strolling rill 
Should flow along beneath the shady elms, 
With silvery tongues tinkling the pebble-bells — 
Where laughing childhood, sportive on its banks, 
Might dip its dimpled limbs in the pure waves, 
Playful and innocent ! and elder girls 
Weave f(jr its joyous brow chaplets of flowers, 
Fresh sprung from out the warm and nutrient mould, 
(10) Through the long night of winter blanketpd 



74 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



With leaves spread by Novembei* winds around, 
Dropped from the shoulders of the bounteous wood» 

Firstlings of sprhig ! 
How beautiful they seem ! Ere yet a bud 
Has tipped the fingers of the bare-armed trees, 
Peeping from underneath some smouldering limb 
Returning slowly back — not into dust — 
But life and beauty in its comrades o'er — 
Or from the sheltered nook, or sunny side 
Of walnut brown, or silvery maple-tree; 
Speaking with eyes so spirtually pure 
The praise of him who " doeth all things well," 
Yet in the holy sanctu'ry of the grove 
Breathes first his resurrecting breath, and says 
Unto his meek-eyed children of the wood 
Sleeping in death, " Come forth in purity I" 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 75 



L I L L 1 E 



Lillie sleeps in the garden ; 
Sweet she sleeps m the orchard ; 

She lies there all alone : — 
But sleeps as sweet in the garden, 
As if she slept in church-yard, 

Beneath the pallid stone. 

She lies there where the apple 
Will blossom above her grave, 

And drop flowers on her tomb ; — 
Where clover leaves shall dapple 
When summer's breath shall wave, 

And sunlight chase the gloom. 

'Twas in the bare November — 
No orchard bloom or clover, 

No flowers on the ground; — 
When there — I well remember. 
We placed the cover over 

Sweet Lil', without a sound. 

No falling clod to wake her, 
Or jar the silent feeling 

Of grief with sudden start : — 
' O God ! wilt thou now take her' 
A lipless prayer was stealing 

Aloft from every heart. 

When spring comes, we will go there 
And fix the sods above her, 

A blanketing of green : — 
And brightest flowers shall blow there, 
Bedewed, from hearts that love her, 

With tears of diamond sheen. 



76 



MieCKLI.ANEOlTS POBMS, 



IN MEMORIAM 

(C. C. E.) 



Ah me ! ah me ! how strange a thing is man ! 
How feeble oft — and yet how strong the force 
That widens out or narrows his life-span — 
Arrests his steps or speeds him on his course. 
Mysterious power ! Mysterious in its source, 
Yet guided ever by an unseen hand, 
That can the spirit from its clay divorce, 
Or wed them with an age-enduring band, 
Though pestilence and war spread over all the land. 



Lo ! the wrecked seaman, on a floating spar, 
Bruised by the elements, hungry and chill — 
Through sunless days, and nights without a star, 
Life ne'er deserts him, and hope lingers still. 
E'en his own flesh he gnaws — extremest ill ! 
And yet survives a thousand hardships more ; 
At ninety years, when children's children fill 
His pipe, he tells them tales of sea and shore — 
Adventures of his youth, recounts them o'er and o'er! 



Not such thy fate ! — ^v;ho3e spirit was too pure 
For common wedlock with vile human dust ; 
In youth's glad prime when life seem'd most secure, 
With lips still redolent of hope, and trust — 
Thy brow unwrinkled, in thy heart no rust — 
Ambitious, and yet loving ; mild though brave : 
Gen'rous and noble; merciful and just — 
No " gum? medicinal" thy life could save, 
Borne in thy beauty's bloom untimely to the grave ! 



MISCEI.I-.VXEnr; 



Not such thy fate, my Brother ! Thou whose form 
Beiieath the sauds of yonder hillock sleeps, 
Breathless and silent, wliile the wintry storm 
Unheeded o'er thy cold bed wildly sweeps ! 
Not such thy fate ! for whom my heart still weeps, 
Building in thought a monument of tears ; 
'Round which my love, still green, like ivy creeps, 
And shades the tomb which luiderneath a]>pears. 
Its roots spread wide in the moist memory of years ! 



Yet thou art not forever lost to me ! 
Thy spirit-shadow ftills within my door, 
And not a room's untenanted by thee — 
Although thy steps resound not on my floor ! 
And I am drawing near thee ever more ! 
Midway upon the Bridge, I see below 
The niighry river ; and beyond, tliu ^horo 
"Whence thou art lighting me, with spii-it glow, 
Along each rugg'd arch that spans life's mystic flow ! 



MISfEM.AXEOUS POEMS. 



MAY SON G 



I would not sing a song of May, 

Were not my heart so full of love j 

I cannot choose — cannot refuse- — 
But sing I must the happy lay. 

All hail to May ! ' 

The charming May! } 

The fresh, the glad, the blooming May ! ' 

The smiling, joyous, lovely May! 

My heart is fiill of songs of Spring, 

As is the tuneful Robin's breast ; ' - 

But none so sweet as those that greet i 

The days that come on May's bright Aving! ^ 
Oh days of May ! 

The nierry ]\Iay ! :, 

Tlie bright, the green, the sparkling May ! < 

Tlie cheerful, friendly, laughing May ! J 



There's not a cloud in yonder sky ! ■ 

The morning's breath is sweet as Love's ! 
The meadows green, the groves serene, 

Reflect thy beauties on the eye. < 

Oh beauteous May ! 1 

The matchless May ! ^ 

The smooth, the soft, the velvet May ! 1 

Tlie soothing, modest, wiiming May ! :| 

I had a love once, all my own : ,] 

And she was like the gentle May ! j 

Ah-well-a-day ! ah-well-a-day ! ' 

May too, will fly, as Love hath flown I j 

It cannot stay ! ■ 

It will away ! 

The dear, the lost, regretted May I "i 

How mourning comes with joy — sweet May ! 1 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



SUNLIGHT. 



The stoi-m hath passed ! 

From dark to gray ; 
The clouds are thinned and drawn away. 
Their wave-like crests are turned to spray- 
Flecking the blue, as down the bay 

Tliey float, how fast ! 

One by one, 

Till lost are tlicy 

In light at last ! 



Now breaks the light ! 

Joy, joy, how bright ! 
See how yon silvery dome is lit ! 

Look at the spire — 

A heavenly fire 
With goldeci glow surrounding it ! 



What means it 1 See ! 

Tlie village white 

New painted seems ! 

Ah! glorious light! 
And yon blue hills that o'er the lea 

From left to right 
FJing down their shadows — as in dr<; 



80 



MLSCEII-AXliCJUS I'OEM.S. 



They would embrace the gentle hiwn, 

Feel this delight. 
Shed from the bosom of the sun ! 



And those tall trees, 

Porever green ! 
Their dusky boughs late fldl of gloom — 
Lo ! through them stealing — where the breeze 
Was wont to loiter, and the wind 
Pierce them with sighs — 
Tlie sunlight joyous now is seen ! 
No bush nor shrub it does not find, 
Baptizing them in heavenly dyes ! 



And we — 
Our Hearts are touched with love 

Tliat melting swims into our eyes, 
As Ave behold from realms above 

Such glory streaming through the skies ! 



Thanks, thanks, great King ! 
We feel thy bounty, and we do rejoice; 
We harp thy praises, and with humble voice 

Thy blessings sing ! 



